Writing Suicide Poems

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Details | Rhyme |
Ana
She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.

If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.

She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.

She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.

Everyone thought she was happy, 
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?

She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.

Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.

They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.

They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.

Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.

She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred. 

She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.

She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.

Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
Killed herself,
everyone had forgotten she needed help.

Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013




Details | Free verse |
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
alone;
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.

Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.

Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.

-10/14/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Salaam |

Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega

Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013




Details | Light Poetry |
Have I?
Captured you?
Rapture’d you?
I stare at you
The moon at my back
Wine dripping as blood
Life dripping from your soul
My red hair shines and glows
My Naughty thoughts so sublime
I will devour you
I will make you
Make you be who you are
Make you howl like a wolf in the night
Pleasures as you have never known
Caressing upon your chest
My love, we have no time at all to rest
In peace, just yet
Do you see me, full of your essence?
I smile at our fate of the evening time
I know in the end
All the pleasure I bring to you
You oh great love will return ten fold
I will moan like a satisfied feline
We have accomplished what our tribes said was not
Allowed or possible
Hold me dear
Hold me forever
As we plunge
Together in the depths of love
And leave this world
Forever

Notes: This poem was all over the map, and finally I molded it after the famous Romeo and Juliet.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Romanticism |
Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.

The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart 
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.

The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.

Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
without you.

I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
You say you're ugly,
You say you're fat,
You say you hate reality,
but it's not just that.

You say there's nothing good,
you say everyone hates you
you say you can't eat food,
I wish I could help you.

Because in my eyes, you're beautiful.
In my eyes, you are perfect.
In my eyes, you are wonderful.
Please take the time to reflect.

You want to die,
I want you to survive.
You're trying to say goodbye,
but I'm holding onto the knives.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
Hand in hand we walked 
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and 
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor 
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for 
hours
Because no stress was in our 
way
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy 
castle
With nothing dividing us.

Side by side we walked 
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to 
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about 
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for 
hours
But misunderstanding broke us 
up
Anna and I still smiled and 
laughed
And joked about our bouncy 
castle
But secondary school was going 
to divide us.

With no one there I walked 
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my 
friend and together we were 
two
Violet and I both loved Doctor 
Who
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere 
minutes
And school started pulling us 
apart
Anna and I still laughed and 
smiled
Still promising to be friends 
Never letting it divide us

Suffocating and drowning I 
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling 
alone
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all 
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or 
saw each other
But we still made the most of 
our friendship
As we were like family, stress 
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did 
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was 
long gone
And our schools were beginning 
to divide us

Dead yet breathing I stand 
right now
And I hate who am I and every 
single detail
Fights broke us up and pulled 
us apart
So I can feel Katie, Violet and 
Chloe
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place 
unknown
And blamed me for never 
talking to him
But really it was because of my 
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond 
my control
Anna and I were still friends; 
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart

So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl 
of reception
The only person talking to me 
is me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and 
always will
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Pulling me
Down

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Sinking in deeper,
No way to escape,
The dark and scary Reaper,
Fore told in the Book of Life.

Is this my end?
Will I ever see the light of day again?
No. My wounds, I must mend.
I must find my strength.

Stand my ground,
Face my fears.
Only then will my voice be found
I must survive.

Break the suffocating chains,
Run from the darkness.
Power will fill my veins.
I will Fight!

Fight the painful names,
The horrid memories,
The demented games 
And escape My Black Abyss.

Copyright © Jewels Chavira | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
You see her?
Why don't go be like her?
No one likes you,
so this is what you must do.

You must stop being yourself,
get off of you shelf.
You must please everyone,
to do that, you must be number one.

She's the perfect girl,
you're the no one in the world.
So go ahead, and give yourself away,
since you're going the wrong way.

You are no longer you,
see what you can do.
You are now her,
that's better than what you ever were.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The Eyes

The eyes so shattered and so blue,
You sit there and you knew
The pain of losing someone close to you,
And you beg for their return,
But a wish so great, can never be granted.

The eyes shattered and blue,
Watch you,
Take the bottle and drowned yourself,
They watch you destroy yourself,
And they know what they do,
Yet they show no remorse, no pain in heart.

You fall asleep
On a dirty mattress,
Held up by broken dreams
And nightmares,
No pillow, no blanket
Just air you float on.
And your blind eyes close in the night,
The dreams come back to haunt you
And the eyes, they watch you,
So shattered and so blue.

Till three o’clock hits again
Wake in cold sweat,
Spiders on webs weaving a nest
In your head,
A cry out for the Madhouse,
Where the eyes so shattered and so blue
Stare at you, through a window with no reflection.

-10/3/2013

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Born to live,
Never wanting to die,
fearing death to its every limit,
as blue eyed death grabs my shoulders
and laughs with grim
and I fear death even more.
Car crashes, murders, greed and envy
takes me to a place where I can't find hope.
Laughs grow and brings tears to my eyes,
I hope off trains and dodge cars driving down freeways
taking time to sit down and look at my ways,
that push me left nor right.
Up nor down can I see the time tick away
I can't wait till I walk Jacob's ladder,
till a black demon tears me down,
and sins rip me open,
like a surgeon to a patient on a table,
Me, myself and I take time to see the wrongs in life.

Do I dare shake the vines from the dark green jungles
that tangle deep in my mind, body and soul?
I shake with vengence when time turns its face from me.
Time has no time for me
and she takes me by the hand and wastes my life away
with endless heartbreak and drunken whores and buffoons,
who care only about themselves.
The evil souls burn away,
and their blind eyes do not see what they do to others' hearts and souls.

I believe the strangeness of me is that I love too much,
and care too much to actually open my eyes and see what burns away
infront of my very eyes.
I only see what my heart wants to see
my romantic side kills me away,
while my physical being is falling apart with heartbreak and sorrow.
The strange part is,
love was never there to be found,
and the strangeness of me,
is that I love too much to see blue eyed death coming to get me.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |
Asphyxiation 
By Tyner Twine

Someone is knocking on the door in my chest,
As I start to disappear in small white breaths.
A dark curtain falls over my vision,
The light is gone, then comes damnation.
The carefully built dam starts to crack,
Its foundation not as strong as it may seem.
Windows of my soul filled to the brim
Trembling lips with frown so grim
And so it seems I'll lose my glow
Searching for a start I'll never know.
And so I reap the fruits of the seeds I've sowed, 
Along the rough and winding road.
The binds which binds me binds my neck and starts to break
 And the fireplace in my soul starts to die
The pressure tightens and crushes my air supply 
And after the seizures cease, The Last Sigh.

Relief, at last.

Copyright © Kristine Mariz Ursua | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
I'm  sitting here in this room,
thinking to myself about the past.
How I had bloom...
though, it didn't last.

God, everyday I am lying.
Everyday I put on my mask.
I always end up crying
since no one dares to ask.

I stopped talking to my friends,
cut them all loose.
For this is the end,
and we all knew I would lose.

Everyone around me thinks I'm better.
since all they see are lies.
They should know better!
Even though I'm in disguise.

I put on my fake smile
and laugh along with everyone around me.
I think everyone is in denial
since they can't obviously see

They act like nothing happened.
like... I faked the whole incident.
They honestly don't know what happened,
or why I caused that incident.

They believe that I was never "broken"
just that I wanted attention.
I should have never spoken
and give them my full attention.

No one knows I've been skipping my pills,
everyone thinks I take them.
Maybe I'm saving them for the kill?
Who knows what I plan to do with them.

I throw up everyday,
only because I've grown used to it.
No one understands my ways
or why I keep quiet.

Sometimes, when I'm alone
and I see something I could use to harm myself.
I check to make sure I'm on my own
and start to look at myself.

First, I cry...because I oh so much hate my body.
Then, I hurt myself.
Proving that I am nobody.
and since I'm alone, and with no one else

I continue doing this 
until I see a drop of blood,
then it feels like bliss.
I continue sometimes, craving the blood.

Then when it gets too much,
I sit down
thinking... no one knows I do such
if they did...would they let me drown?

I bet they would.
Since everyone I have come to love, 
leaves me..just like they should.
because I'm nothing from above.

You might think I'm a blessing.
ha, I'm a curse.
I bet you were messing,
and just tried to keep it from getting worse.

but let me get this straight,
nothing you say or do,
will get me to leave this gate.
For this gate is where I was left to

be on my own.
to forget about help.
I was always alone,
never having anyone's help.

Just let me be,
I don't need your sympathy.
Can't you see?
It doesn't matter to me!

I'd rather have everyone hate me
than have you all pretend
because believe it or not, I can see
through all your acts that should come to an end.

You aren't my friend,
so leave me now.
This my end,
you mustn't know how.

I will write back soon,
for this is my only comfort.
I only shall come at the time of the moon,
for that is my hour of comfort.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
No More

Feeling abrupt,
Like a volcano ready to erupt
My soul a hurricane swirling
Around my empty mind and cruel
And forgotten soul.

Pain, feelings so strong,
It cannot be described
On a page with a pen.
I snatch the lunar eclipse
Away,
And beauty of the heart goes away,
No sight, no sound;
No pain, no sorrow;
No smile, no frown;
No anything, no everything.

A soul so black,
A heart so weak,
That love is long gone,
And will never return.

No pain is worth feeling,
And no pain such that I hold
Is worth writing away,
No use in finding love again,
When faced with heartbreak
One thousand times before.
No more pain, no more sorrow.

I shall go and sleep away the time,
Till Death comes calling my name,
And lilacs and violets litter my way,
And a single ruby hearted rose
Dries up and slowly dies away.

-10/3/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
One year I went to a summer school. 
And there was a girl there 
With shining eyes and
An award winning smile. 
She was kind to everyone and 
Excluded no one. 
She always laughed with others
But you could go to her when you 
needed it.
We talked for hours and
Quickly became friends. 

Last year I went back to summer school. 
The girl was still there. 
She had sad eyes but
Kept the award winning smile. 
She was kind to everyone yet
Excluded herself. 
She never laughed properly 
But you could always go to her 
when you needed it. 
We talked for mere minutes and
I guess I lost a friend. 

This year when I went to summer 
school
The girl was no longer there.
Rumours of suicide surrounded
Her name
And no one was kind to us all.
Everyone excluded their-selves.
Silence consumed every thought and moment
Because no one was there when we 
truly needed it. 
Memories of talking haunted me and
I couldn't help but miss my friend.

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
There's this girl,
who was once very beautiful,
who saw beauty in the world,
who was very wonderful.

This girl was then hurt.
She didn't know how to deal with it,
she decided to put it in the dirt,
it was her way of hiding it.

This girl hid it very long,
no one knew she had pain,
no one knew she was hurt all along,
until she went insane.

This girl went suicidal,
she was unable to see,
what was possible.
This girl is me.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
Pill after pill
The pain still remains,
Night after night
Glued to this haze 
thinking of you
emotions spread
love, hate, everything between
covered in shade
after slowly going insane
this blade,
allows emotions to escape through my veins.

Copyright © kennith stomps | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
I hear voices now and again
Of losses of a beloved dear wife
So false and true to believe in vain
I remember her scent and our life
O how this sorrowful news sharpens
I refuse to be comforted
Because she's no more
I want no condolence
Do not even come this near to share my grief
She will never come again
I am afraid to know what happened to her
I do not want to see what caused her departure
I am bitten and those snakes have run away
leaving with me only an angry wound
I have a reason to cry
I refuse to be comforted
I am worthy to follow
I do not belong here anymore
there is where everyone belongs
this heart is scratched and smashed with thorns
and electrified and thrilled with nails
I feel tightened to the ground where I belong
Until the soil swallows this being
This is easy and hard to live by
To enter and to leave my life
I refuse to be comforted
I hope no more
I will not believe if not for death alone

Copyright © Masereka Amos | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
I put my quill to parchment 
And like a gaping wound 
My heart spills my pain upon it

Like crimson tears the words 
Drip onto the pale yellow page
Soaking it with emotions so profound 
My hand struggles to write

A release of my soul
Now permanently stained  
In bold italics across the tattered sheet

A bitter sweet ode to my demons
Another metaphysical analogy of life
No longer wanted

Another useless attempt at salvation
A long overdue goodbye  
That no one will ever read

Until they finally find me 
Hanging in the closet 
Amongst the other skeletons 
I have unwittingly collected 

And can no longer tolerate 
Nor live with
Or most important of all
Hide from myself

Copyright © Thomas King | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |
Silent tears that no one sees....
A broken heart that no one can sense....
A soul crying to the world....
      but no one is listening. 
There are times when death 
seems to be a welcome friend....
With promises of no more pain...
      no more disappointments.....
         no more feeling as if 
                       all my efforts
                               are meaningless. 
And so a prisoner of my emotions
       I am trapped in a world
            that no longer belongs to me. 
I am a prisoner in this life.....
       A cell mate in this body
           where many prisoners reside. 
And I cry in the silence of my soul
      where no one can truly understand
                          This tortured shell.
And so as I continue to show the world
            this false facade of bravery and strength.....
   Inside- death is mocking me... 
                    Tempting me....
                          Inviting me.....
And in fear of the unknown.... I fight!
I stand on the threshold....
On one side- I see a life of those I love who will never understand
                        how deep are the wounds within my soul.
On the other side- A promise of rest and relief....
            An opportunity to know an unending peace.....
A chance of rescuing those I love
         from having to deal with this
                                     tormented soul. 
I stand on the threshold.... 
          Not sure which way to go.


© Amada Gonzalez

Copyright © Amada Gonzalez | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
Words Words can make you hurt, Words can make you cry. Words can make you laugh, 
Words can make you try. Words can change you and Words can make act wrong. Words 
can hurt others. But words that hurt are nothing new. Words with action is. Because some 
actions can hurt and make pain come. Some actions can make you feel happy and loved. 
Some actions can get you down the wrong road. But whatever happens, with words or 
actions Remember that friends and people have feelings Try listening to them Friends can 
make you laugh when your sad. They can catch you when you fall. No friend lets you die Or 
leaves you in a dark corner to cry. Friends are angels from above. They are there for you. 
So if their is one thing from this that you remember is should be this, Don't say your my 
friend one moment, Then hurt me and leave me to die the next.

Copyright © Chelsea Ouellette | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Last year
I wrote about you in every
Sweet way I could
In every notebook I had
This year
You're only mentioned
In my 
Suicide letter.

Copyright © Devan Oliver | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |
I put my quill to parchment
And like a gaping wound
My heart spills my pain upon it
 
Like crimson tears
The words Drip onto the pale yellow page
Soaking it with emotions so profound
My hand struggles to write
 
A release of my soul
Now permanently stained
In bold italics across the tattered sheet
 
A bitter sweet ode to my demons
Another metaphysical analogy of life
No longer wanted
 
Another useless attempt at salvation
A long overdue goodbye
That no one will ever read
 
Until they finally find me
Hanging in the closet
Among the other skeletons
I have unwittingly collected
 
And can no longer tolerate
Nor live with
Or most important of all
Hide from myself

Copyright © Thomas King | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
(written for JP)

I wish I could talk of my thoughts all-outly 
To a sincere soul, gracious, and comely; 
One's sympathy doesn't count so much 
If my sentiments can't get through one's heart. 

No one would listen or has the time 
Each has its own concerns in mind 
That I prefer to keep the pain within myself 
Lest being responded with prejudice. 

For sometime now I felt trodden and reduced 
To bear the rudeness and verbal abuse. 
True love is vain if perceived unfitting 
One's very best is but nothing. 

What are they proud of? What have they owned? 
Are not but framed citations in a silent room? 
They boast achievements against the aspects that I failed 
They have ignored the value of a love so real. 

There is not one who shares my views 
I guess, not until my life is through 
If justice is given to me when I'm gone, 
Then I chose now the quickest for things be done. 

I conspired with the dawn on my disheartening 
I don't care at all what the new day would bring 
Or to intend to scribble an apology 
For not bidding goodbye the subtle way… 

 
Date & Time of Writing: 
May 11, 2012 
10:20 a.m. - 11:02 a.m. 


the last stanza of the above poem was the only part of the article that came into my mind as we were on the way to the wake of my wife's nephew but i never had the intention of writing those lines to make a poem.  Until last night that I had a dream having a passive conversation of the departed. In that dream was a casual conversation with him as if the whole fateful episode was a slight matter and as if he was very much alive relating to me of his frustrations that led him to the execution of his dark plan.  I've been late to start my day today and had become oblivious of the dream until to my surprise that the first customer to walk-in posed a very strong resemblance to the departed.  Then little by little lines came into my mind to start the writing of this poem... maybe a message should be told..I honestly don't know. Sorry...

Copyright © Jecon B. Nadela | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
Bad turned Good


What’s going on with my life at the moment?
Suddenly running along like a locomotive;
About to explode in a poverty struck, cancer ridden, suicide;
Or somehow find a publisher and maybe survive.


For time is no longer on my side;
So please help me!  I’m all out of time.
Please, I need to sell my poetry;
Or die alone, with broken bones, in the street.


Another prayer for the redemption of the guilty.
Please I beg, buy my goods from me;
Help me leave this poverty,
So I too can be set free.


Allow me to write, poetry to my Wife
And I shall forever feel free.
Let me tell her how much I love her in a letter;
So she can keep my words of love eternally.


Even when she hates me and kills my insides;
I shall forever have wished, for her to have become my Wife.
Just one taste of the bride in white,
Someone to actually love me that much;
It’s a joke I told myself to survive.


Some people just die alone and lonely;
Those people are just like me.
So do as you wish, in my last dying moments;
But my words are now spoken, for all to see.


If you like my words then come and rescue me;
From contempt, from the rent, from the demons I breed.
They slaughter me and bring me bad luck;
But this poetry they help me to write…
So I guess even bad does a little good.



(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
She closes her eyes and begins to write the words of her story into her skin; plot thickens; affixiated with self- mutilation
 So she watches as her veins cry dripping red tear stains all over her sheets & only then can she see and feel her words coming to life
Smiles even though its been awhile; Something about the pain makes it all seem so surreal and in the end.. bittersweet
Eyes enclosed with barren tear ducts; and pursed lips
 The only words uttered are between her hand & razor as she carves her masterpiece
Her skin screams with each stroke but her pain tolerance holds her rationale hostage allowing her to keep writing; and in time everyone will read her story without ever hearing her speak
     Creative writing is stained on her
                   sheets

Copyright © Christom Bradley | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
We have to buy our own black leather jackets,
sharpen our words like switchblades.

Poems are dangerous things.

We shoot them up.
Our tattoos read:
                        beauty=truth.

We die for it.

Watch out for us. We will violate
your daughters with our villanelles. We will
                  turn the street wet
                        with our deaths,
for no one cares
                        or reads these poems
held at our heads.

You call our bluffs, wave back
at us from our bridges, our windows
                              our ovens.

We die,
exploding these poems
                        like seeds.

Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |
I watched Howard 
Lose control
As the rest of the students stared in awe
They had never seen such anger; such passion
Coming from the sockets 
Of a young man's eyes
He was quiet every day
He got poor grades
But he sure did love to write
And talk
So he would pen down
Whatever he wanted to say
One day, his lightbulb turned on
So he clicked the bottom
Of his pen
To jot down some words
Mrs. Jameson;
Demonized and angered
As she was-
Took notice of Howard's 
Self-distracting activity
And asked him to read aloud
He closed the notebook,
Staying silent
Avoiding that look
Into her vexed eyes
Until she said it
She called him a loser
Who knows why he snapped that day-
This had definitely not been the first time 
He was humiliated
In fact, he knew inside
He was just not liked;
Yet for some reason,
She had detonated
The bomb
Of his silence
And he had to scream
He had to cry
And curse
Telling her she was
The most despicable specimen
That has ever crossed his path
She asked him why
And that is what made Howard cry-
Not caused simply by a heavy heart;
But because he had no explanation,
Other than she has ruined his life
With that one word
That would soon
Be the cause of his self-demise

Copyright © T.B. Joseph | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |
The time has come and past for me I'm afraid its true
When this comes to mention the question is 'for who?'
If you can read my writing than you know its for you.
Sadly I can mention that this is true.
I'm almost certain the next time you see me I'll be blue.

The one thing about life I'd really like to say
I'm sorry you had to feel me don't hesitate today.
Hesitance is with me every single day
that's why im still here im afraid to say.
All of that is behind me its safe to say
My writing will soon be forgotten anyway. 
I can now say without a doubt, and I know for sure
I can finally come out
Suicide is my answer, its what my life was all about.

Copyright © Joshua Rawls | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
Where does the writing become illegible?
I cannot reconstruct the thought I have tried to compose in ink.
They bend the pages 
They are not quite so simple as you might think.
So I find a pen in this unsteady hand
A hand writing for a mind plagued by confusion,
A mind confused by its own construction,
An affected constructed that plays on its ailments and its cures
And can't decide which poisons it more. 
Can you tell where the drugs set in and the urgency faded into a hum?
And the words wrote themselves as though I were dead or maybe just numb.
And its empty, 
Its all wrong,
It lacks depth.
And so I cry out
What is this life to me but what it does to my insides?
Oh Elliot!
I measure this life in weight, in wrinkles, in scars and sometimes broken ink.
I mix our blood and write in its memory,
intimacy.
If I effectively filled a vile with a memory 
It might  satiate some quilled desire to purge.

Copyright © Rachel Maran | Year Posted 2007